Horses Hooves And Dusty Paths
by mraymondjames
Summary: A Once Upon a Time one-shot based on the anecdote that Rumple told to Neal's grave in 4x01 - A Tale Of Two Sisters. An 8-year-old Baelfire is trying to sleep but can't stop himself from thinking on the injustices of the Ogre War. When he is disturbed by a horrific noise outside, he seeks comfort with his father.


**Hello all, I cried so much during the scene that this fic is based on, and writing this was pretty feelsy too. There isn't a lot of dialogue; it is mainly Bae Bae's (Yes I just called him Bae Bae) thoughts, kinda like a monologue but in the 2nd person. I hope you enjoy it, and for those of you who are reading Fairground Attraction, the next update will either be posted tomorrow or Tuesday! :) X**

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><p>Baelfire lay in his bed curled up beneath his blanket in an attempt to fight off the bitter cold of the winter night. He had been trying in vain to get to sleep for the past four hours - he was exhausted. He'd spent the whole day helping his father herd and shear sheep so they could spin the wool. His feet were sore and his whole body ached, so when his father had finally told him that he could go and sleep he had slipped gratefully into his bed. He had heard his father go to bed about an hour ago, which meant it was at least midnight.<p>

The Ogre War had been raging for Baelfire's entire life, and for as long as he could remember he had been helping his father work to earn the pitiful amount of money that kept them alive. He'd never been truly free - there were curfews, guards around each town border and everyone had to contribute to the war in some way. This meant that Bae and his father had to work extra hard to spin enough wool to supply to the army and to sell to earn money for themselves. He hated it. It was no life.

But the thing that Baelfire hated most about the war was the compulsory registration. Everyone who was 16 or over and fit to fight had to sign up to fight in the army. Baelfire was 8, so theoretically had 7 years before he should even begin to worry about signing up, but the minimum age was being brought down on a regular basis. He could get called up at 14 if that was what the Duke ordered. But it wasn't the prospect of fighting and dying that Baelfire hated most. It was the prospect of leaving his father.

When Baelfire's mother had left them when Bae was 6, his father had taken it hard. He'd stayed strong for Bae, but he'd heard him crying every night for months after she left because he couldn't cope. He had to work and look after his son, all the while dealing with his leg injury. On top of that, everyone in their village saw him as the town coward; they all hated him and no one wanted anything to do with him or his son. It had been hard, but eventually the two of them had adjusted to life with just each other. Bae knew that if he was taken away as well, his father would not be able to handle it. All they had was each other, and without one another neither of them would be able to cope. Baelfire would be alone, frightened and fighting a losing battle while his father would be alone, frightened and with no one to bring even the smallest light into his dark life. This was what haunted Baelfire every night when he tried to sleep.

At 8 years old, you'd think a child would have more menial things to worry about. But when you live in the Enchanted Forest, you mature fast or you die.

He was gently beginning to drift off to sleep when Bae heard a distant rumble outside. The sound grew gradually louder until Bae managed to distinguish it as horses hooves plundering down the dusty path a few metres away on the edge of the woods. It must have been the soldiers patrolling the edge of the village. There had obviously been some kind of action at the border. Bae curled up tighter into his blankets, trying to fight the nervous trembles that shook his body. But the sound kept coming, more and more horses and more and more noises joining the cacophony of sound already sounding through the area. There were shouts and screams and the sound of flames crackling somewhere; possibly a forest fire. Bae squeezed his eyes tightly closed as fat tears of fear began to slip out of his eyes and down his cheeks.

He sniffed and slipped out of his bed, heading towards the corner of the room where his father slept. He found the edge of his father's blanket and slipped under it, snuggling in close to the warm body of his papa. He felt his father stir from his sleep and roll over to face him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He whispered, stroking a hand gently down his son's face, brushing away the tears that left trails down his cheeks.

"Papa, I'm afraid," Bae whispered through his tears, clutching his father's clothes and burying his head in his chest, sniffing to try and keep more tears from escaping from under his eyelids.

"Don't you worry son," His father whispered, stroking his hair and placing a small kiss on his head, "Everything's going to be fine."

Bae moved slightly away from his father and smiled at him through his tears. His father smiled back and pulled him gently into a hug, kissing him on the head again. Baelfire curled a small fist around his father's clothes and snuggled even closer. And this was how the pair of them fell asleep, clutching onto each other, drowning out the hideous sounds of the war outside that would one day tear them apart.


End file.
